


The Good Doctor

by traqicalromance



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Hook-Up, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, doctor shirabu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28969029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traqicalromance/pseuds/traqicalromance
Summary: Your gynecologist Shirabu prescribes you an orgasm but you just can't seem to do it.
Relationships: Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	The Good Doctor

Doctors' visits had always scared you. No matter what the issue was, the task was always daunting and you had too much trouble plucking up the courage to make appointments unless you were in dire need of medical attention. Which didn’t happen very often, so you consider yourself lucky. It was a good system you told yourself, if you stay healthy, take your vitamins, and do all the things a doctor recommends you didn’t actually have to go see them. Or that’s what you thought.

Apparently seeing a gynecologist could only be avoided for so long. At least that’s what your family doctor told you during your yearly visit. That since you were nearing your mid-twenties it was imperative to take initiative and have an active role in your reproductive health since many conditions often went undiagnosed until it was too late. The very thought of that had frightened you enough to allow your doctor to set you up with a gynecologist at the nearby hospital so that you could get a full workup done. 

But no one had told you seeing a gynecologist was a million times worse than seeing any other doctor ever would be. It wasn’t just uncomfortable or awkward, it was mortifying. Being exposed like that to a stranger right off the get-go was foreign, though it was supposed a casual affair. You were with a doctor after all, so there was no need to be nervous. And maybe you would have been put at ease if you had been in the exam room with anyone but Shirabu Kenjirō, a surgical intern who’s rotation just happened to land on OB/GYN that week. You were certain with the way he looked right through you with a scowl, that he had to have wished he was anywhere but there in the room with you. Certain that he would have much preferred to be catching babies or watching someone crown than speak with you.

And after an hour of tests and questions, you were home free, but just as you were out the door a small nagging voice in the back of your head was telling you to ask him the question that had been plaguing you for weeks. So you did, with cheeks aflame and your gaze averted you asked what quite possibly was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard; how to tell if you had came or if you were wet because you were aroused. You didn’t know how an orgasm was supposed to feel so you never knew if that’s what you were feeling. So, every time you were intimate with someone or had been gotten off you wondered if you came. He was a doctor and while this wasn’t his area of expertise, surely he’d have an answer. That was how you rationalized it. But rather than answer you, he gave you a stiff pat on your back as he sent you on your way with a promise to see you in a week’s time and some homework for you to complete before then. 

You had thought the stirrups were terrible but this felt a hundred times worse. The homework he assigned you was an orgasm, but of course, the nightmare didn’t end there. He wanted you to document everything you had done to get yourself off and how you felt during your orgasm. And when you came back, you were to tell him the nitty-gritty details so he could answer your question. This had to have been some sick joke, you were sure of it. There was no way that this was standard practice. But the thought of asking for another doctor made you feel silly, and you had to remind yourself that he was just trying to do his job. 

That’s how you found yourself back on the sixth floor, surrounded by the echoing sounds of labouring individuals and the sharp smell of antiseptic that clung to the hospital corridors. The waiting room was bathed in a sickly yellow light that did nothing to compliment the muddy beige walls. If there was anything you hated more than doctors, it was the hospital and its waiting rooms. They made you feel even worse than you already did, the atmosphere too unsettling to be comforting.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to skip the appointment, no matter how much you wanted to.

The guilt would eat away at you until a hole of burning shame was all that remained of you. So you sank into the stiff, spotted waiting room chair, straining your neck to listen to the soft-spoken receptionist. You almost missed the call of your name because for a split second you had let your mind focus on the television playing in the corner of the room. You wished you had missed it but she called your name once more, louder this time so that you had no choice but to make your way to the exam room. The heel of your shoes clicked against the linoleum floor as you passed the seemingly never-ending row of doors. The exam room you had been assigned was in the very back corner of the floor, hidden behind a plastic potted plant. 

Hunched over a pile of paper-work and files was your doctor, eyes heavily lined with deep, dark circles, stubble dotted along his jawline. His hair, which had been neatly brushed to the side was now sticking up and his once-crisp scrubs were frumpled. He looked exhausted. 

“The gown is the examination table,” he said, not lifting his eyes to meet yours, “Get changed behind the curtain, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

You weren’t sure that undressing was necessary, it was just a follow-up and he hadn’t mentioned you needing another examination. It had to have been procedure and as an intern, he must have needed to follow it to a tee. You just hoped he wouldn’t have to use the speculum, it was cold, uncomfortable, and you couldn’t seem to relax which made the whole ordeal even worse. The gown was surprisingly thin, so thin that the colour of your bra was visible. It was loose enough that it wasn’t all that noticeable unless you were staring directly at your chest. Pushing back the curtain you peered at his form. He looked a second away from dropping directly into the desk.

“I’m ready,” you cough, “Uh, sir?”

His head popped up at the sound of your voice, “Please take a seat,” he straightens his back as he rises from the desk chair and plops down onto the stool adjacent to the exam table, “You’re here for a follow-up. Came in talking about orgasms?” He trailed off, flipping through his clipboard. 

Nodding you gave him your name, hoping he’d have less trouble looking for your chart. You watched him skim through the notes he had meticulously taken down the previous week. 

“So, did you do your homework?” his eyes refused to meet yours and you wondered if now given time to reflect he was doubting the choice he made.

“Mhm,” you wracked your brain for the best way to phrase things, but there really wouldn’t be a better way to tell your doctor that you masturbated per his request, “Well, I tried.”

Shirabu waved his hand, gesturing you to elaborate further. You supposed that there was no point in beating around the bush; ripping off the bandage would spare you the humiliation of playing a guessing game. Sex wasn’t something to be ashamed nor was masturbation but you couldn’t tear that ugly feeling away from your chest.

“You tried?” he repeated, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Fiddling with your fingers you sighed, “I uh, I did things just like I always did and when it started to become too much I stopped.” Heat bloomed amongst your cheeks, creeping up your neck and to the tips of your ears.

“Do you think you could elaborate?” Shirabu asked, tapping his pen against his notepad, “What do you mean by ‘too much’? Did you use a toy or just your fingers?” Whatever regret he may have felt earlier seemed to have dissipated, “I need you to be as specific as possible.”

“I used a vibrator on my-”

“Clitoris?” he filled in for you, nodding to himself, “Hm, so you’re very sensitive and that’s what’s stopping you from climaxing.”

He was speaking to himself more than he was speaking to you.“Seems to me that you should refrain from using a toy to stimulate yourself.” Satisfied with his prognosis he was ready to send you one your merry way. He was practical screaming that he had better things to do than to entertain this appointment any longer.

“Fingers don’t feel good though,” you mutter, picking at your nails, “And what about with a partner? It’s not the same and I still don’t know if I’ve cum.”

Shrugging his shoulders Shirabu pursed his lips, “I suggest you find someone willing to properly learn your body and its reactions,” he caps his pen, “You should do the same, learn what your body likes.”

“I know my body quite well, sir. I don’t think that’s the issue”

You should have been relieved to be let go but you were unsatisfied with his answer. There had to be something more you could for yourself. You already knew what you liked and what you didn’t like so it felt like a lord of horsecrap to be told that, that was the answer.

“I’m sorry to say that there’s nothing more I can offer you,” he said, eyeing you up and down, “Unless of course, you want to demonstrate for me exactly what you did.”

“I beg your pardon?”Your mouth ran dry, palms sweating at the very thought of that proposition.

“It’s not unusual for patients to masturbate or even engage in intercourse for doctors to study their brain chemistry or reproductive organs,” Shirabu remarked, “Though this would be more typical for those with self-lubricating issues.”

You were at a loss for words and all you could do was blankly stare back at him. There was no way that he was telling the truth but you had no reason to doubt him other than your own disbelief. 

“How does this solve anything?” you ask, “What do you learn from watching me?”

Shirabu places his hand on your knee, “I’m gonna be honest with you,” he says, “Struggling with an orgasm most of the time is due to mental blocks or the partners inability to please. So, by observing you, this block may be identifiable. But if you’d prefer to leave feel free to do so”

He rose from the stool, sauntering back over to the desk. 

“Wait,” you shot up from your seat, “As a doctor do you think this is a worthy endeavour?”

You hated the rush of nerves that shot through you and the way your lip trembled as you spoke. But you wanted an answer, you wanted to be told there was nothing wrong with your body and to just feel good without there being a strange hollow feeling afterwards. 

“It could be.”

His expression was unreadable but there was no malicious or cruel intent behind his eyes. You could trust him, he was a doctor, wasn’t he? 

Settling back onto the bench you placed your hands in your lap, “Then, I’d like to proceed.”

The soles of his running shoes squeaked when he turned back to you, “Alright then, now if you don’t mind please put your legs in the stirrups,” he said, uncapping his pen, “And you can just pretend I’m not even here.”

The paper underneath you crinkled as you laid back, the sound becoming louder and louder with each movement you made; the only sound to be heard in the otherwise silent room. The gown rode up as your feet settled into the stirrups. Any sense of self-preservation had gone out the window and now you just to quell the uneasy feeling that weighed heavily on your chest. Closing your eyes didn’t relax you nor did it erase the feeling of being watched and the faint sound of his pen tapping against his paper. Your hand dipped between your spread thighs, rolling your clit between two fingers. There was nothing skillful in the way you touched yourself, frustration was quick to build because you couldn’t focus on anything other than the man in the room. 

When trying to picture a scenario in your head as a desperate attempt to distract yourself you couldn’t stop picturing him. Your brain sent manic signals that told you that you needed him to touch you, that he’d look so good between your thighs, or even hovering over you. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way, holding nothing but indifference towards him.

“Are you alright?” Shirabu asks, snapping you out of your thoughts, “You’re gripping the bench awfully hard.”

Closing your eyes you shook your head, “No, I can’t do this,” you sighed, “It was stupid anyway, sorry for wasting your time, sir.”

“You’re too tense,” he said, “You need to learn to relax.”

That wasn’t the case but you were too ashamed to tell him that he was the reason you were a second away from ripping a chunk out of the bench.

“Let me help you.”

Scooting forward he parked the stool between your spread legs. His warm breath fanned across your thighs as he moved even closer to you.

“What do you mean by that?” you gulped, but you knew exactly what he was suggesting, “What do you mean by help?”

Bright blue medical gloves were already being slipped onto his hands, his fingers long and surprisingly nimble. The rubber snapped against the skin of his wrist as he finished up, the material stretching as he flexed his hand, “Some people find the task too daunting so it’s not unusual for their doctor to give them a hand,” smoothing out his lab coat he licked his lips, “Really, you believe how much faster the process goes or the number of patients who climax from a simple pelvic exam.”

“Alright,” you said, throwing caution to the wind, “That's...alright with me.”

Shirabu rested his gloved hands on top of your thighs, his face mere inches away from your cunt, “May I?” Nodding you craned your neck to get a better look at him. You could just barely see his eyes as ducked his head down to lap at your folds. 

A shudder wracked through your body as his tongue met your pussy, lazily swirling around your clit. The stubble on his chin scratches the soft skin of your thighs, a groan rumbling in his chest. Gripping the sides of the bench you sigh, a pleasant heat zipping through your veins. He was good with his mouth, each flick of his tongue more divine than the last. Had you been anywhere else you’d allow yourself the freedom to let out each wanton sound that travelled up to your lips instead of trapping them between your teeth. So, you were careful to hide them, biting down on your plush bottom lip ‘til you tasted copper. But you couldn’t stop the way your hips spasmed, jerking into his mouth when those pretty lips of his wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on the bud. It was getting to that point; the point when it became too much and you’d stop. 

Shirabu showed no sign of letting up, one large hand hooking underneath your leg to press your hips back into the bench. His other hand joins his mouth, with two slender fingers stretching out your sensitive hole. It takes every fibre of your being to keep your mouth shut, and you were sure if what dripped down your chin was drool or blood from your lip being split open. His fingers curled upwards and for a moment you thought you were dreaming as stars dotted your vision, back painfully arching upwards. You had never felt the way you were feeling in that moment, your brain racing and grasping at straws to determine what he was doing to you and how. But you couldn’t because the pleasure he ripped from your core was mind-numbing. Your chest heaved and your body trembled as a strange feeling washed over you. You think Shirabu might have chuckled amidst the languid flicks of his tongue and cruel pumps of his fingers.

You had never felt this way before, tingling all over as your cunt gushed into his mouth, a sick squelching sound filling the room. Dropping against the bench your head lolled to the side. Your limbs feel heavy and all you can do is twitch and convulse pathetically. 

Sitting up straight Shirabu smiles to himself, “I’d say there was a successful emission,” raising his hand to his mouth he popped his soaked fingers into his mouth, “How do you feel?” 

Turning your head away you shivered, the cold air of the office settling over your sweat-slicked skin. He was so … shameless.

“Good, doctor. Thank you so much.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this check out my [Tumblr !](https://traqicalromance.tumblr.com) for other things I've been working on!!


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